Suffer
by ASingleSplendidSong
Summary: A one-shot that should have found its way onto FL, but it was... well, read it. Ryou x Hino - 'A wry smile had danced on Tsuchiura's lips. What does he think I'm going to do – crash the wedding' XD


**Name: Suffer**

**Pairings: Ryou x Hino**

**Written by: BlueRoseParamour**

_DISCALIMER: I DO NOT OWN LA CORDA D'ORO, ALL RIGHTS GO TO KOEI AND KURE YUKI. _**  
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Those are the graceful notes in which he must suffer.

No one could hurt more than him right now. Yes, playing the piano on a prestigious stage, performing his favourite piece and dreaming of the girl he still loves. Nothing is more painful.

The melody dances in his right hand, teasing and falling, and he remembers the time when they first played it together. Nine years ago, at the concours. He had never felt so awed, standing on stage with her. It was like the spotlight had filled up inside her, and a halo could have started shining around her head. But the music had brought them down in a loving spiral with a melody that had spelt sadness and love. He now knows how fateful this piece was and should have left it there and then, but he doesn't regret staying.

He regrets not telling her first.

Maybe then, they could have had a chance together. Even if it were only to be a day, he would have treasured those 24 hours like no other. He ponders, as his fingers glide past the soft melody, about the times when he was so nearly there. Just as he had synced himself up to say those words, the phone rang, or someone walked in. Maybe that was Fate's way of telling him that they were never meant to be. He was a resilient fellow, and could take in his stride whatever life would through in his way. But what he could not understand is why it had to be _him. _

He was there at the wedding. He was the best man. Hino had been very adamant about that, saying that no one else would do, even when Tsukimori had politely put forward that Ryou's talents would be better off as the wedding pianist. The groom knew. And yet, Tsukimori didn't confront him. Instead, he gazed upon their conversations very much like someone watching a scene from afar. Like a lover watching his loved one and their sibling. And both men had always known that was all that there was going to be.

When Hino was getting ready before the wedding, they had not conversed. Tsuchiura sensed that Tsukimori was nervous. His movements were jittery and cautious, and they stood at opposite ends of the room. The champagne had lain untouched. A wry smile had danced on Tsuchiura's lips. _What does he think I'm going to do – crash the wedding?_

And he would have, had it not been for the bride. He could not bring himself to make the girl unhappy. He had long ago realised that they would never be together, but that didn't stop the pain that threatened to engulf him. The only reason he had agreed to be the best man was to kill any hope left in his heart. _That way_, he asserted himself, _I can move on. Get on with life. Forget her_.

Or so he thought. When Hino had first appeared in the doorway of the church, his heart was filled with an uncontrollable jealousy. She looked so perfect, heavenly and divine, that for a second, Tsuchiura was so tempted to kiss her and whisk her away.

He never could though. When he saw the look in Hino's eyes, he was so ashamed of his thoughts. Her love was for _him_, and _him_ only. Never for a second should he have doubted. He followed her gaze and locked eyes with a pale Tsukimori. The message was clear, but it did not stop the groom from being any less nervous.

It wasn't until they had said their vows that the two turned to look at him. Both with eyes full of unsaid gratitude. The groom's gaze was thankful and full of humility, the bride's full of happiness. Tsuchiura couldn't look either of them in the eye, sent his congratulations through a startled Hihara and hurried out of the door while ripping the blue rose off his lapel.

When he had reached his apartment back in England, he found a package on his doorstep. A note, written in elegant script, had said, _W__e'll name our first son after you. _When he had immediately called and thanked Hino for the present, she had replied that there hadn't been one. Looking at it now, there was no way that calligraphy could have been Hino's writing; it was far too neat and the swirls in the 'f's, that looked like musical _forte_ markings, made him sure it was written by Tsukimori. It sat on his piano, along with countless awards, unopened.

Yet when their first son was born, it was Hino who had made the call, babbling on about how surprising it was that Len had chosen the name, and so came about Ryoutarou Tsukimori. The perfect mixture of everything he loved and hated. Born to be a violinist, yet had chosen to learn the piano.

He fails to realise that the etude has long ended and now his fingers are simply improvising a melody that had lingered forgotten in his mind; one of unrequited love and friendship, one with a harmony that dances in his left hand. Years of loving and hoping and aching echo and resound in the keys that are played. Memories come rushing back, and he knows that he is still very much in love. Flurries of emotions rise and overflow, blowing him towards the place where he is the happiest, where the pain doesn't seem so bad. The audience sits, entranced with the music, the melody, the man. They don't know what they're listening to, but it holds them, like a vice, and calls to them in a siren's song. Each note rings in the every regret and guilt buried deep inside them, making it temptingly beautiful. This is the song that lullabies him to sleep every night, sad, lonely and rejected. The pianist's eyes glaze over and when the final chord strikes, a single lonely tear falls to the floor, the only one that would ever fall and there it lay, forgotten. No one saw it.

He walked off the stage to the sound of silence, where the audience sit stunned at the end of the nightingale's song. The silence in which nothing exists, and there's not as much pain, but the suffering is not all gone, for he can still hear the discordant notes of his shattered heart.

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_A/N: I know, I know. I'll write something happy or funny soon. Actually, that's the reason that I didn't want to put this into Forgotten Listener, because so many of my stories in there are melancholy. Ah, it seems that I can write of nothing but sadness. I wonder why that is? *hint hint - to make me happy please REVIEW* XD_

_I know that many of you will have some questions, so I'll try to answer a few of them here. 1) **Why a blue rose on his lapel? **The blue rose has always been known as the symbol of the impossible or mystical. In Chinese mythology, it symbolises deep yet unrequited love. 2) **I don't get that bit about the box???** Um, well, it should have been clear enough. It was Len, trying to make amends for what he's taken away from Ryou, by giving a little back to him in the form of their son. 3) **What's the piece you're talking about at the beginning? **It's Chopin's Etude in E Major. One of the most sublime Chopin I have ever heard. YouTube it. AND, did you know that this year is the bicentenary of Chopin's birth and today (04/03/10) is Antonio Vivaldi's birthday? I know, rock on. _

_Thank you so much to everyone who reviews this, to mimi-chan whose fantastic beta-reading skills I cannot live without, and to you, the reader, just knowing that you clicked on this story makes my heart weep with joy. _

_Love, _

_BlueRoseParamour_


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